Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Blume In Love (1973)

No filmmaker captured the Me Decade more adroitly
than Paul Mazursky, whose ’70s movies depict intersections between such things
as hippie-era spiritualism, recreational drugs, and therapy sessions. During a
streak that began with Bob & Carol
& Ted & Alice in 1969 and continued through Willie & Phil in 1980, Mazursky told unconventional stories
about wildly flawed people who both exploit and fall victim to cultural trends.
Throughout this period, Mazursky also demonstrated special sensitivity for
themes related to the Sexual Revolution. While An Unmarried Woman (1978) is the most famous of Masursky’s ’70s
films because the picture tapped into the women’s-movement zeitgeist, Blume in Love tells a similar story from
a different perspective—and with much more discipline.

Both films begin with a
marriage falling apart as a result of the husband’s adultery. An Unmarried Woman, obviously, examines
the female point of view, tracking a character’s journey from humiliation to
self-respect. Blume in Love explores
what happens to a philanderer after he gets caught, adding in the seriocomic
premise of a husband falling back in love with his wife the moment he loses
her. Building a movie around a schmuck involves threading a very fine needle,
but Mazursky is a writer-director of such supple skills that he comes as close
to pulling off the trick as possible. The most interesting aspect of Blume in Love, however, is that it
doesn’t ultimately matter whether viewers like the lead character; the goal of
the film is simply to reveal enough aspects of the protagonist that he’s
understood. As in the best of Mazursky’s movies, empathy is the order of the
day.

The picture begins in Italy, where bearded and morose Stephen Blume
(George Segal) laments the recent dissipation of his marriage. In flashbacks,
Mazursky tracks the arc of Stephen’s relationship with Nina (Susan Anspach),
eventually taking the flashbacks up to Stephen’s departure for Italy. The whole
movie, therefore, represents the thought process by which Stephen comes to
grips with what he lost and learns to accept that the split was his fault.
Mazursky pulls no punches in his portrayal of Stephen as a self-serving son of
a bitch—the character does horrible things to Nina—so one of the questions the
movie investigates is how much toxicity a relationship can survive if the
foundation of the relationship is genuine love.

In the most surprising flashbacks,
an unexpected bond develops between Stephen, Nina, and Nina’s rebound
boyfriend, a hippie musician named Elmo (Kris Kristofferson). Whereas Nina and
Stephen represent typical upper-class L.A. neuroticism—the spouses even use the
same psychotherapist—Elmo epitomizes the counterculture mindset. He’s a
work-averse dropout who spends every day screwing, singing, and smoking.
Kristofferson’s performance energizes the middle of the picture, because his unpredictable
character takes the story in so many fresh directions.

Segal, always a pro at
playing amiable pricks, complements his expert comic timing with subtler
shadings, displaying the vulnerability that bubbles underneath Stephen’s
cocksure façade. The forgettable Anspach is a weak link, but in her defense,
the Nina character is more of a narrative construct than a believable individual.
Blume in Love is far from perfect,
not only because the central character’s behavior will undoubtedly turn off
many viewers but also because the movie’s a bit fleshy. (A subplot featuring
Mazursky in an acting role as Stephen’s partner works well, but a larger
subplot featuring Shelley Winters as one of Stephen’s clients seems
extraneous.) Still, the movie’s best scenes represent Mazursky’s unique
approach to social satire at its most humanistic and incisive.

1 comment:

Wow, where did this one come from? First time hearing of it, I'm all over this one. Love Paul Mazursky, a major contributor to cinema that's not talked about enough. Really liked his various cameos and acting performances as well, his bio is also a great read. Thank for the reco!!